"Fenris. We are on a boat." Comes James's wry answer, as he hands over a piece of cooked fish with some of the hard tack. "It's not as if there is a baker out in the middle of the ocean."

He went to sit next to the elven warrior, biting into the fish. Despite eating it for at least four or five meals in a row, James seems rather pleased. After all, he grew up on a river, and sailed on his father's merchants ships when he was a small boy. The ocean, and it's particular bounty, was always going to hit the spot with him.

"Besides, I am fairly certain that between the two of us, we have eaten far, far worse."